


Musing

by DynamicKea



Series: Alternative Mentor AU [6]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alcohol, Blackrock Chronicles, Conversations, Gen, I'm certain I'm stretching what counts as a mentor for this one, Nanosounds - Alternative Mentor AU, Other Characters Are Mentioned, The Crooked Caber, world building
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-30
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-05 09:42:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6699859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DynamicKea/pseuds/DynamicKea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the Crooked Caber, Rythian has a conversation with Nano. Topics include drinking with a mask and how to deal with mentors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Musing

One of the strangest bars in the Yankee province was the Crooked Caber. It was situated on an island several hundred metres off shore, in a bay shaped like a zombie bite -- shallow, but wide and poisonous. The “poison,” in this case belonged to both the questionable whiskey inside, and the raging wild magic that saturated the waters around it.

For reasons that defied a clear explanation, Caber Island lay dead in the centre of where magic drained from the land. This wild magic caused many students to scratch their heads when filling out thesis papers. The ocean boiled in places, while glaciers floated in others. Water bent around non-existent pillars, leaving empty holes in the water that almost brushed the seafloor. Fish swam several feet above the water. Waterspouts could spring into the air, swallow a bird or two, and then vanish with just a feather or two left in its wake.

When the Crooked Caber appeared in the bay, many scoffed.

‘Utter madness,’ the heads of the Magic Police said. ‘It will be gone in a week, mark my words. If the owners don't flee, the island itself will be torn to shreds.’

But a week passed. Then two. Then a month, a year, and nothing happened to Caber Island. It was an oasis in the desert of raging magic. It was the perfect place for students and high-class thaumaturges to visit and watch the magic to its work.

If they could reach the island, that was. Considering the water spouts, holes in the ocean, and freak lightning strikes, almost every method of reaching Caber Island was inadvisable. Even teleportation didn't work thanks to the magical interference, although one student had managed to land on the island by aiming several miles inland. The individuals who attempted the journey were highly practiced and intelligent users of magic, or were lucky, or were stupid, or a mix of parts of the list. The “regular,” patrons of the bar made do by memorising patterns, ignoring it, or just by blasting their way through every obstacle in their path. These regulars weren't usually interested in the magic, however.

Of course, some of those who _were_ interested turned their attention to the island itself instead of analysing the magical vent. Quite simply, the island hadn't been there before. Some theorised that the island was key to solving the mystery of the magical drain, more than just being a convenient location for observations. Others considered the island a product of the magic itself. And some bright minded lot thought it would be a swell idea to start digging into the islands foundations.

Funnily enough, those students never return after “regular patron one,” well... _persuade_ them to stop. Rythian might have felt bad, if they weren't _exactly_ the type of people he didn't want “governing,” magic. They always deserved a scare. But hey, maybe ones that weren't idiots would work it all out. Possibly one that thought to actually _ask_ Ravs what happened to bring him to the bay.

Rythian hadn't asked, but then again the magical vent wasn't a high priority to him. No, his interests lay inland in a castle of black rock, and the ticking time bomb far below.

...Ok, it was a nuke on a remote detonator under Blackrock Stronghold, but Rythian was allowed to be poetic. After all, his best friend was sitting next to it, Rythian couldn't do anything to help, and Ravs was outside so Rythian couldn't get himself more whiskey. Dammit, Tee. Damn levers.

At least Rythian had one mug, although he had no clue what he'd do when it ran out. Probably drag Ravs back from his game. Or just lean over the bar and refill it himself. The thaumaturges weren't around thanks to their collective idiocy, so he wouldn't have to deal with their uppity glares. Although, Rythian could have sworn that it tasted saltier than usual. Either Ravs was testing a new recipe, or the squids were--

Actually, he didn't want to know. Rythian drummed his fingers against the half-empty mug. Outside, Tee roared in triumph, only for the _click click_ of the lever to restart.

About then, Zoey would have chimed in. An encouraging voice, a teasing laugh, something. But no, instead she was deep underground. The grave analogies were too easy to make. Rythian’s grip tightened on the mug, and he kept his gaze firmly forward. If he kept his mind off of it Rythian could pretend that Zoey was behind him, in one of the window seats. He'd be worrying that Zoey might realise what the whiskey was made of. Or that she might drag him outside to play. Or Rythian would be keeping his attention on Zoey to ensure she didn't sneak away to her lab-- dammit.

No. Focus on the pretence. Pretend Zoey was in a seat behind him. There was a subtle squeak of leather as she shifted in her seat. There was the _clunk_ of a mug against her table. There was an irritable mutter--

Wait.

_Clunk._

Rythian did not turn around. He was aware of every angle in the room. Directly behind him was the door. Oaken, a good foot taller than him, and the wind could curl through the window in it. If Rythian turned around, he knew he'd see Tee and Ravs out the leftmost window, both pairs of eyes down and focused on their lever game.

On the table between Rythian and the pair outside were a scattering of leftover plates that Ravs had abandoned. The table next to that had a barstool pulled up close to it, and a toppled mug with a stain developing on top. On the floor was another stool, this one half tipped over and leaning against a sofa. A smashed glass lay under it. More stains were brushed over the creaky floorboards, and they were the provider of the aging stench. It covered that of the squids downstairs. And the soft wind helped dampen the smells.

If Rythian turned around, he knew what he would see. It was a battlefield waiting to spring to life. He knew every corner. Now though, he had one blind spot. Just one.

_Clunk._

Rythian had his mug within sight. He sure hadn't put it down.

So. He wasn't alone. They, whoever “they,” were, sounded like they were on the opposite side of the Crooked Caber, opposite of Tee and Ravs but indoors. They were sat by the window, on one sofa. Judging by the quiet sounds they were five, no, six metres away. That put them at the far cubicle.

Shoes scuffed against the floor. _Snk, snk, snk,_ it was a faint rhythm that he somehow hadn't noticed before. Rythian narrowed his eyes. They didn't quite reach the ground when they were seated. Short then. Not a child, Rythian would have noticed if a child had remained when the students had run away. And a dwarf wouldn't pick that seat -- it was too narrow for their liking, and directly below one of the brightest lamps in the building. They were likely human, or at least human looking.

 _Small_ meant that Rythian would have the advantage. Longer reach. He wouldn't need to expend as much energy in movement. Of course, _small_ meant a target hard to hit. He would manage.

If they were hostile, all Rythian would need would be a distraction. A thrown mug, perhaps, or he could hook a fallen stool up and toss it their way. He just needed long enough to put on his katar, and the red blade would prevent escalation.

 _Clunk_. Then, a quiet sigh. High pitched, very little timber. Female, possibly.

The quiet scuffing of her shoes stopped. The sofa shifted, the sound of leather crumpling was loud to Rythian’s alert attention. A _creak_ of floorboards. Her shoes were flat against the ground. Then tap, tap, tap, footsteps slipping herself out from the cubicle.

Rythian tightened his grip on the mug. If she had been there the whole night, she must have seen him... persuade the others to leave. She had to be with them. Rythian kept his posture relaxed, both hands above the bar, even with his focus fixed behind him.

Out the corner of Rythian’s eye, he spotted a flash of red. The footsteps passed behind him, a respectable distance between her and him. He brought the mug to his mouth, lips pressed firmly together. He needed his wits, if she turned out to be hostile.

She reappeared two stools to his right. It was a girl, and she pulled out the stool and hopped up. She certainly was small. Black hair, red robe-like clothes, and green bracelets. Strange. Most applicants and graduate thaumaturges wore blue or purple robes. It could be that this one was competent though. After all, everyone would halt what the Magic Police deemed “illegal,” when the Magic Police were obviously around. She wasn't doing a stellar job at being undercover if that was the case, considering her outfit still invoked robes. And why would a “competent,” person waltz up to the most powerful mage within a hundred biomes?

The girl’s eyes were fixed in the middle distance. She was idly rotating her mug in her hands. Both hands. So, she wouldn't be able to attack without obviously dropping the mug first.

She sighed. She put the mug on the table, still staring at the empty bar, and she slowly spun it by the handle. She still had both hands above the table, even leaning her chin on one hand.

‘Hey. Um, do you know how long Ravs will be?’ she said quietly.

Rythian turned towards her, abandoning his relaxed position. ‘I wouldn't know,’ he said. Half his mind was on his katar.

The girl groaned. ‘Great. Just great. He'll be playing that game for, I don't know, the next _week_.’ She scowled down at her mug.

Rythian’s reply was a non-encouraging grunt. Even when he turned back to face straight forward, he kept scanning the girl over for weapons. There was a white and oblong shaped gun at her side. It looked bulky and impractical, especially the strange claw-like appendages at the tip. There was a sword to, made out of a reddish metal.

‘Mmph. Who’re you?’ she said.

‘Who wants to know?’ Rythian said quietly. He practically growled the words.

The girl sighed again, eyes drifting upwards to the broke TV. ‘I do. Nano. What's your name?’

Rythian considered the question, letting it echo. On one hand, he had sufficient protection against naming magic’s that her knowing his name wouldn't cause any problems. On the other, it was his name. For all Rythian knew, she was trying to get him to drop his guard.

‘...Rythian,’ he eventually said.

‘Rythian. Rythian, Rythian, Rythian. Why is it that everyone has such weird--’ the girl cut herself off with a grimace. ‘Never mind. I've seen you around here before and I was wondering, how do you drink with that scarf?’

Seriously? Rythian turned to stare at her. The girl had a small grin on her face, an amused light in her eyes. She also kept glancing behind her, to where Ravs and Tee were engrossed in their game.

‘It's just a scarf,’ Rythian said shortly.

‘Yeah, but, I have _never_ seen you take it off and it was weirding me out. It's like....’ Nano screwed up her nose in thought. ‘I've been trying to work out if you're an alien and the scarf _is_ your mouth and I'm just mistaking it for a scarf, but you kinda already called it a scarf so it can't be that.’

‘Are you drunk?’

‘No!’ Nano said quickly. ‘I mean, I got a lot before Ravs went outside and you went all demon-lord or whatever it was on those kids. But back to the point -- scarf?’

‘It's magic,’ Rythian said flatly. He almost picked up his mug to take another sip. But no, drinking could wait until after the girl left. Or when she wasn't watching his mouth.

‘Aw, that's _such_ a copout,’ Nano said. She pouted, glancing behind herself again. ‘Oh, also, thanks for giving the boot to those kids.’

Rythian deliberately raised his eyebrows. ‘Kids?’ he said. He pointedly stared at her.

Nano’s expression grew venomous so quickly it was startling. ‘No, don't you start,’ she spat. ‘I had to give a yell at Ravs when I first got here, _and_ to those kids, so don't you bloody start.’

‘Uh huh,’ Rythian said.

She stuck her tongue out, then returned to staring at her mug as if alcohol would materialise if she hoped hard enough.

Rythian kept watch from the corner of his eye. She just sat there, brooding, tapping her fingers in a quiet _ta-too_ on the bar. She didn't seem drunk. Her cheeks were flushed red, but she wasn't slurring or staggering and seemed to have all her facilities. Rythian kept running through the lists of spells he probably wouldn't need.

Nano stopped tapping. ‘Hey, um. Hypothetical situation.’ She vaguely waved one hand towards Rythian, seeming not to notice as he tensed. ‘What would you do if your mentor--’

‘I don't have one.’

‘It's a hypothetical, shush. Say, just pretend, that you had a mentor for uh, several months.’ Nano said the word “several,” slowly, as if counting the syllables.

‘Ok, mentor. Sure.’ May as well humour her.

Nano nodded several times. ‘Ok, good, now say that this mentor was the one to teach you... how to fight, helped you build your first set of tools, and he taught you how to beat up wisps and farm and stuff. Pretend that he did all that ‘cause he met you by saving your life, and he wanted to keep it that way. Say that all that happened.’

‘Not sure where you're going with this, but sure.’

This time, Nano’s nods were jerky, like a puppet with strings just cut. ‘Ok. Now, let's imagine that your mentor met up with an old “friend,” of his, and everything was fine, right up until your mentor _blew you up_ so he could hang out with the bloody jerk!’ She punctuated the final word, the final shout, by slamming her fist into the table.

Rythian kept his expression carefully blank. The scarf helped.

Nano’s voice shook. ‘What would _you_ do to your mentor?’ she said.

Rythian pushed his mug away and faced the girl. The answer seemed obvious.

‘Well, I don't want to sound crude, but I would track them down and shove a katar up their ass,’ he said.

Nano smiled. It didn't go further than a contortion of muscles. ‘Don't have one. Good advice, but I don't think I could pull it off.’

Out the window Tee roared in frustration amid Ravs’s cheers. Rythian snuck a peek at his mug. Only a quarter left.

Nano cleared her throat. ‘Got another one for you,’ she said.

‘Not sure how helpful my advice will be, seeing as you are katar-less,’ Rythian said.

‘Ha. True, but I dunno if you'd pick kataring in this.’

‘We'll see.’

‘Yeah, ok.’ Nano looked like something was lodged in her mouth. Something sour. ‘Ok, so after your original mentor blew you up, you crash land in front of another bloke. He patches you up, teaches you more stuff, and is just the dorkiest guy. And after staying with _him_ for a while, you get the feeling that he _may_ be planning to kill everything and everyone with even more explosions?’

Oh. Oh no. ‘Are you sure?’ Rythian said quickly. ‘If, if there's _another_ maniac like that, you should get the hell away.’ _First Lalna, now this guy, how many crazed lunatics **are** there in this world!? _

‘He's not a maniac!’ Nano snapped. Her hands were bunched into fists by her mug. ‘He's... ok, he's _definitely_ going to blow something up, I know it, but, but he's my _friend_. And he has weapons so I can get back at my old mentor, and he hates S-- _him,_ but then he might go too far and really hurt people and I don't want _that_ to happen! Maybe I should bail, but I don't _know_.’

Rythian had already opened his mouth to agree, but Nano ignored him.

‘And he's my _friend_ , we're friends, and I can't just ditch him because of this, and I can't leave ‘cause he's absolutely hopeless on his own, but he might also blow up the world if I'm not there, maybe _because_ I'm not there. I don't know, I don't know, I don't _know!_ ’ Nano punched the bar again with a loud _thump_ , wincing and cupping her hand to her stomach.

Some of her words seemed strangely weighed to Rythian.

 

_The catalytic lens was almost perfect, almost. A weapon of mass destruction, sitting in the palm of his hands. Speaking of mass, the mass production of the nova cataclysms was going well. He just had to put down one or two, ignite it with his fire ring, and just like that the earth disappears. He’d like to see then **try** to stand up to him in a fight. _

_Because there was going to be a fight. Everything else had been a stupid distraction that he never should have bothered with. He should just remove the memory of it, all the evidence of what had been. Without her, all of that was just… pointless. He would focus on what was really important. Which was finishing the weapon. His weapon. And that was all._

_It really was too dark in Blackrock at times. He could hardly see what he was--_

_…Huh. Oops. Oh well, a little rain never hurt anyone. Besides, he could see what he was doing now._

 

There was something in Rythian’s throat. _You still should leave, get out, get some help_ , he almost said. Almost, but the words were caught, imprisoned in whatever was choking him.

Nano wasn't looking at him. He could almost see a mirror in her words; almost see another history that was the same except for the edges, as bad as that felt.

‘...You care about him?’ Rythian found himself saying.

‘He, he's like a big brother,’ Nano said, her voice still cracked but mending with fondness.

‘Does he care for you?’

‘Yes. He does.’

Nano's reply was instantaneous. It was filled with conviction, as solid as diamond, and her voice did not shake.

Rythian met her gaze. ‘You called him your mentor. Be his. Teach him, find out why he wants people hurt and help him out. You're probably already helping by being there for him.’

The _click click click_ of the lever filled the room. Nano broke eye contact with Rythian and stared straight ahead, looking thoughtful.

After a long few minutes, during which Rythian wondered if he had said the wrong thing and maybe he should speak again, Nano pushed her mug to the server’s side of the bar.

‘Yeah.’ She smirked. ‘And I'll give him a good yell if he does do anything.’

Nano slid off her stool, stumbling for a second.

‘I think I'll head back home,’ she said. Her smirk faded into a smile.

‘Hold on.’ Rythian twisted around on the stool. ‘If your friend does start destroying the world, can you warn us?’

‘You, Ravs, the dino and the red-head?’ Nano said. ‘I'll definitely tell Ravs, and since you three are almost always here, I'll ask him to let you know.’

Rythian steadily avoided looking too relieved. ‘That would be great, thanks.’

‘Thank _you_ for the chat,’ Nano said. She grinned warmly. ‘Really, it helped.’

‘Oh, you're welcome,’ Rythian said automatically.

Nano half bowed, grin still on her face. The door rasped on its hinges, then fell closed in a heavy _snap_ behind Nano. All that remained were the sounds of waves, the click of the lever, and her footsteps fading. A faint _fooswh_ sound echoed through the windows.

As Rythian finished his drink and placed it on Rav’s side of the bar, he steadied his breathing. He had to put the whole conversation out of mind for now. For his own sanity.

Rythian stood, turned to the door, and left the Crooked Caber. The girl had already disappeared into the darkness, disappeared somewhere in the storm of magic. For a second he felt worry pleading for him to check she wasn't being swatted every which way by the magic, but she had said she'd been to Caber Island before, hadn't she? Nano would be fine. Her and her friend would be fine, and Lalna would be the only world-destroying fool Rythian had to keep track of.

All Rythian had to worry about was the nuke under his home, and interrupting Ravs and Tee’s game without his head being torn off.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This story contains quotes from "Minecraft -The Tekkit Rebirth #1," that have been restructured into paragraphs.
> 
> I wanted a small break from the longfic I've been working on, so I dusted off and polished one of my older drafts. And looking back on it, I'm not too sure if it should count as being part of the Alternative Mentor AU. Whoops?


End file.
